Max and Fang: IF THE ANGEL EXPERIMENT HADN'T HAPPENED YET
by Dunno12345
Summary: So, this story takes place at Max's new school where she meets Fang. It's about how their relationship evolves and how the Angel Experiment eventually comes in to play.
1. Chapter 1

Didn't you just love the first day at a new school? Weren't you just a bouncing ray of sunshine, so freaking excited about today and all that it would bring? Didn't you just rattle on and on about the many friends you'd make, how popular you'd be, all the cute guys buzzing around you like bees to honey?

Yeah, riiight.

You see, I'm not much of a complainer, but when it came to a new state, a new home, and a new school, you can't exactly blame me for being a tad apprehensive about this whole situation. It was like being tossed down a giant pit. Maybe you'd find riches at the bottom or maybe you'd find a bunch of snakes and die. Either way, you'd still be stuck. (Yeah, yeah I know, bad analogy but whatever.)

I'm not like other teenagers, though, just with the exception of this. I didn't wail at my mom and scream that she was ruining my life when my curfew was set at 10:30 instead of 11:00. In fact, I was blessed with an epic mother and an awesome little sister who practically worshipped me.

-"Max, stop hogging the front! It's my turn, I called it!"-

See? The kid adored me!

Anyway. . . So it wasn't like I tromped around like a spoiled brat. Nu-uh. I was grateful, I was respectful, I was generous and caring and so forth, but today just seemed to have a depressing tint to it with a foreboding sense wriggling in my stomach and lettin' loose a bunch of bats-Yes, bats. I highly doubted that butterflies would cause such a ruckus.

Either way, I knew what the day had in store for me; people would stare, I'd glare at them, and it was highly probable that I'd get sent to the principle's office at least once in the next eight hours, you know, just because I was being respectfully outspoken, of course. But that didn't make me feel any better. Independant, was I? Yes. Esily intimidated? No. Liked being the center of attention? I thought I'd just covered my whole "not a spoiled brat" background, people!

But no matter how strong-willed I was, my palms were still slick with sweat and my stomach was still squawking with bats when our SUV pulled up against the curb of my new, unfriendly-looking school.

Go education!

"Okay, honey," my mom, aka Mrs. Martinez, said to me, turning her head and giving me an encouraging smile which I tried to return with unsuccessful results. "It'll be fine. You'll make a bunch of friends. Just be good, okay?"

Sure, I thought sourly, iwhat could possibly go wrong?

"Help Ella find her right class first, though, okay?"

I nodded.

"Alright, hurry! I can't have you being late! My mom said, unbuckling her seatbelt and giving us each a peck on the cheek as we exited the car. No it didnt embarress me, because I was just so secure that way.

I grabbed Ella's hand who was playing with her shirt nervously as mom sped off and away to the Animal Hospital.

Keeping my cool, I tugged Ella along, giving her a reassuring smile as we entered the school.

Maybe I half expected it to have cages inside that kept kids locked up and forced them to read geometry and understand it. But it looked normal; sickening cream colored walls, a row of in-use blue rusted lockers, doors that led into classrooms and jailed you up 'till the end of the day, and a desk that held a secretary.

Awesome.

Let my amazing first day begin.


	2. Chapter 2

After dropping off Ella with a heart-felt hug that she gave me, I entered my first class which was Chemistry.

Great. My least favorite subject being the opener of my day. Did that mean something? Was that a sign?

I ignored the raised heads and the curious glances as I handed my enrollment slip to a Mr. Blaire, a short, plump, bald-headed, glass-wearing, shirt-tucking man. He skimmed it and gave me an approving nod, turning to his so diligently-studying class, some of which, I saw, had their phones on under the tables and slips of papers to pass notes on.

Diligence was the word, alright.

"Class," Mr. Blaire began, "I'd like you to say hello to a new student, Maximum Martinez."

A few chuckles sounded from the classroom, some kids exchanging smiles.

Yeah, yeah, I knew it wasn't that common of a name, but seriously, couldn't they have been just the least bit civilized? I shot them a glare.

Haha, told you I would.

Anyway, the teacher followed the usual intro-routine, blabbering about how the class should "welcome" me warmly and "help" in case I needed anything and to make me feel "comfortable" and settle in properly.

Pfft, like they wer honestly going to listen. Was he deaf or hadn't he heard the chuckles? Real welcoming, Mr. Baldie.

After the man's so-called speech, my new teacher pointed me over to a deserted chair in the back, along with some other guy who I didn't feel all that compelled to introduce myself to. Not like it was necessary since Mr. Blaire had already done so thoroughly.

So, I quietly crept towards the back, keeping my chin up as if daring any of the kids to even shoot me a look, and sat as far from the guy as I could, not daring to glance over in case he met my gaze. I'd already gotten a fair look at him; tall and muscular, with dark hair and matching eyes. I wondered why a guy like him would be sitting alone. Maybe he just didn't like company.

Which made two of us.

"Max," the baldy drawled on, staring at me, "Fang is going to show you what chapter we're on since you missed the first week, okay? So let's get started."

I bit my lip. So much for ignoring the guy. How much more groan inducing could a single morning be? I supressed the urge to cross my arms on the table and hide my face in them.

Ah, I didn't want to acknowledge the kid-Fang, or whatever Sabertooth tiger he was named after-much less converse with him. Why couldn't they have stuck me with a girl? Someone, I don't know, less awkward maybe?

Yeah, I know, har-har big whoop, guys made me uncomfortable. I guess I'm just endearing that way.

I sneaked him a glance and quickly curtained my face with my blonde hair. Yup, he was staring, looking just as out of his comfort-zone as I was. Proof to the world just how much my social life was an embarrassment to humanity. Then again, I had just moved here, people.

"Fang" gave me an irritated look, as if he so would rather be doing anything else besides sitting here preparing himself to explain where we were on things. Touche, buddy, I wanted to say. Touche.

Mr. Baldie came over and handed me one of the textbooks, giving Fang one of those "looks" as I opened it to chapter . . .where were we? I glanced at Fang. Aaaany time now . . .

"Three," my oh-SO-helpful table neighbor informed me. "We're on blood types. AB-Positive, O-negative. So today we get to draw our own blood," he said, an edge to his tone.

Yay! I thought with fake enthusiasm. Not only do I get to have my first class be chemistry, but I get to bleed for it, too! Well, wasn't my day just turning brighter and brighter by the nano-second?

"Yippie," I said under my breath as Mr. Baldie, aka Blaire, began to hand out pins to prick our finger on. "Alright" he said, "I will need your parents' permission to send it into a lab and get back the test results, but for now I'm going to have you all participate in this, just-in-case."

I sighed quietly, studying the tiny point of the pin. Yeah, I know people bled a lot just because of accidents and all, but it was kind of freaky to make yourself draw out red on purpose.

Next to me, Fang had already pricked his finger and was doing all the follow-ups as I continued my inspection. See? Only a person higher than their pride would fear the tip of a pin. I guess sometimes, I'm just humble like that.

"You going to prick your finger already?" Fang asked, now turned to me. Oh joy, the pressure. Like I would be easily intimidated by those dark eyes.

Not.

"Eventually," I said, still staring at the pin. The guy seemed somewhat annoyed and maybe I was subconciously prolonging the inevitable to do just that. Bug him. That's me for yeah, super clever evern when I wasn't trying to be.

"Max," Mr. Baldie called from his desk, motioning to his hand as if to say "hurry-up." Well so much for prolonging it.

I quickly stuck the pin into the tip of my index finger without thinking about it.

Ouch. Was it supposed to be that deep? Crimson snaked down my finger in thin red ribbons. In a morbid way, it was kinda cool. Next, I pulled the bloody pin out and stamped the cut on the piece of paper in front of me.

"Awesome," I heard Fang mutter, exasperated. "You managed to prick your finger."

I shot a glare on his hunched figure. "I'm not deaf, you know."

"It's not like I cared if you heard me, " he replied.

"What is your problem?" I asked, turning all the way to face him. I was getting the full blown oh-I'm-so-incredibly-too-cool-for-most-of-the-kids-here vibe emanating off of him in waves.

He looked up at me, his face expressionless. "I think you studied that pin too hard. Not many people could manage to prick their finger incorrectly."

I stared at him, anger blooming inside my chest. Yeahhh, I was feeling oh-so welcomed, indeed. "I didn't realize that there were directions on how to "cleanly" draw blood, Mr. Know-It-All," I spat. Yup, my day was just getting better and better.

"Well, I don't think jamming a prick through your finger constitutes as 'right.'"

"Maybe I did it just so it would dull the pain of having to sit next to someone as conceded and derisive as you," I shot back, still giving him the evil-eye. Leave it to my luck to sit next to someone with the likes of him. Again, I felt the urge to scream.

His black hair fell into his eyes, "or maybe you were distracted."

"By what? The bald teacher or the laughing students?"

He pointed to himself.

I gave him an are-you-serious-or-just-daffy look, meanwhile, groaning internally. "Another possibility is that your condescending aura was knocking me down in waves so I was forced to concentrate on the pin instead of falling out of my chair."

Immediately, that wiped the smug look off his pretty face. In triumph, I did a mental victory dance as he turned back to his book and ignoring me.

Score, one point to me, zilch to Tooth. Fang-whatever.

The rest of the hour ticked away in a blur, filled with information that muddled my brain and eager students whose anticipation to blow this joint seemed to echo off the walls. Finally, after wondering how on earth I'd live to see the repeat of tomorrow, an obnoxious bell rang through the halls.

Freedom! . . . well, kinda.

I sent up a silent prayer that Chemistry was the only class this Fang character and I were forced to share.


End file.
